
The world is complex as it is. Life has a way of complicating itself; it doesn’t always need us to make it more tangled. Luckily, it doesn’t need us to untangle itself either. But I’ve realized lately—not that I didn’t know it, but it’s been a while since I put it into practice—that the way you look at life and face it changes everything.
The same problems appear in different sizes depending on how you stand before them. If they sense fear, they grow larger, cornering you. But if you face them calmly, with a bit of perspective, they shrink, they cower.
I wonder if attitude can be changed, if we can tame it like a fierce dog that deep down only wants affection. Or if, on the contrary, we are who we are—a concept I despise when used as an excuse—and can’t become happier, braver, kinder, or more capable. Perhaps, on that scale from 0 to 10 that defines us, placing us somewhere between darkness and light, we carry a fixed number for life.
I want to believe that’s not true. That we can shape ourselves, adapt, learn from what we’ve lived, reinvent who we are. Tame that shadow that follows us, without the exhausting and impossible task of trying to get rid of it.
Pet it, talk to it, explain that we’re moving forward. That we know it won’t disappear, but this time we’ll place the light where it makes our shadow smaller. Where it barely reaches us. Where it doesn’t invade us. Where we can dance without bumping into anything.
With love,
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